


Forever, You Said | 영원히, 당신은 말했다 |

by the_painter



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Ghosts, Hongjoong doesn't remember, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I know I'm late for Halloween, I swear I'll try to finish this, Lots of drama, M/M, Not Beta Read, Reincarnation, Some people are hiding things, The Park Manor is cursed, Vampire Park Seonghwa, lot of description
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:47:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27353689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_painter/pseuds/the_painter
Summary: Hongjoong had always felt himself inexplicably drawn to the overgrown path leading into the forest though he had never dared venture into it. The villagers had blocked the path into the trees, putting up endless signs and plaques advising both inhabitants and travellers to stay far from where the sun disappeared, hidden by the dense foliage.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 14
Kudos: 62





	1. CHAPTER 1

Hongjoong had always felt himself inexplicably drawn to the overgrown path leading into the forest though he had never dared venture into it. The villagers had blocked the path into the trees, putting up endless signs and plaques advising both inhabitants and travellers to stay far from where the sun disappeared, hidden by the dense foliage.

* * *

The sun had long since set by the time Hongjoong was making his way back home, an oil lamp leading his way in the dark through the thin fog beginning to set almost as paper thin scraps of white clothing in the air.

As they did every year on that dreaded night based purely on superstition and fear, all houses had boarded their windows shut and locked their doors as if death itself would come knocking, all candles blown out. No light could be seen from any of the poor houses, making the village which slowly sank into the fog look almost like an apparition, like a foggy image someone would catch a glimpse of in the mirror. Disappearing as fast as it had appeared.

No one dared make a sound and it seemed animals and plants alike were frozen with the same fear the villagers held in their hearts. Not even the leaves seemed willing to move in the wind.

Hongjoong’s footsteps on the gravel path seemed deafening in comparison to the otherwise sepulchral silence which weighed down the air around him, suffocating him without being able to touch.

As he walked, Hongjoong approached the fork at the top of the village. The path to the right lead to his cottage, a silent and comfortably isolated house by the river, while the path to the left led to a bridge over said river.

On any other night, Hongjoong might not have thought twice when taking the path to the right, the cold biting at his skin and hunger plaguing his stomach. However, as he reached the fork, a very clear sound broke through the silence. It rung through the air in a way it made a shiver run down Hongjoong’s spine.

It was a crystal-clear meow coming from the bridge. Hongjoong turned briskly, the light from the oil lamp lighting up his pale skin and wide eyes as he lifted it. On top of a tree stump just by the grey stone bridge flooded by the fog sat a cat so black he would have hardly seen it had he not been looking closely.

Its green eyes stared right at him and for just a moment Hongjoong could swear there was something almost human about its look. The cat meowed at him again and the man felt his heart jump uncomfortably. He needed to keep moving. Without thinking twice, Hongjoong began walking faster down the path to the right, simply wishing to get home as soon as possible.

Hongjoong walked as if the devil were on his tail, the silence suffocating him, wishing him he could silence his own footsteps and walk in the shadows, but the shadows were the very things he was running from.

He passed the faded stone plaque and continued down the path towards the old oak tree, each step closer to getting home when something stopped him once again. Ahead of Hongjoong, sitting on a rock, was the same black cat from before.

Hongjoong’s breathing picked up, at times stuttering as if someone were squeezing his throat. The same eerie green eyes stared up at him and now it almost looked like the cat was smiling at him. As much as he wanted to continue down the path, Hongjoong couldn’t get himself to look away from the animal, feet rooted to the gravel path like an ancient tree.

“Who are you…” The whisper felt like ice as it felt Hongjoong’s frigid lips. Perhaps ‘what are you’ would have been a better question but the cat felt far too human for such a question and almost as if it could understand it was being asked a question, the cat once again meowed at him though this time it jumped down from the rock and walked past him, back towards the fork.

Hongjoong followed it with his eyes, watching as it stopped as if it were waiting for him to follow. Looking back at the path leading to his home, he felt his blood run cold. On the once open path now sat a large black wolf, yellow eyes burrowing into him. He was being given no choice.

The cat meowed and Hongjoong took a hesitant step in his direction, eyes still on the eerily still wolf, sitting on the gravel path like a statue with no apparent intention of moving to attack him.

Fighting every instinct of his body, Hongjoong looked away from the wolf and instead slowly trailed after the black cat, leading him back to the bridge. In just a few minutes, he could swear the fog had gotten thicker, the bridge now looking like a passage above a stream of rain clouds.

The cat crossed the bridge, waiting on the other side for Hongjoong to do the same though he hesitated. There were no more houses beyond that bridge, there was only one place that path could lead him to. Glancing back, the wolf was now at the fork, sitting in front of the path to the right.

Hongjoong’s step faltered. He considered walking back at the fork, going back to the village and hope someone- anyone- would be kind enough to open the door for him. He knew it wouldn’t happen. Not on that night. As soon as he took a step back, the wolf stalked towards him, closing off his only escape route.

The wolf’s fur was rough, its eyes murderously bright. In a growl it showed its sharp teeth. He had no way out of it. Step after hesitant step, he walked towards the bridge, oil lamp breaking through the fog towards where the cat was waiting for him.

After having passed the bridge, he followed the dirt road up the hill towards the looming trees which became closer and closer, each step darker and colder. The signs advising against entering the forest had become more and more obvious as he walked.

The black cat stopped at the entrance of the overgrown path. Hongjoong was sure the path was wide enough for a carriage to go through and judging by the marks on the floor, he assumed that had once been the exact purpose of the path. Now, however, it was overgrown and abandoned, the fog swirling ahead in between the trees.

With a brief meow, the cat picked up its pace down the path, barely giving Hongjoong any time to think twice or take in the sight of the eery forest in front of him. Suddenly, he found himself walking deeper and deeper into what had always called to him though filled with far more fear than curiosity.

Hongjoong turned his head at the sound of a crow up on one of the trees only to find that when he looked back, the black cat was nowhere to be seen. He was alone in the near silent forest, the way out almost completely out of sight as the overgrown path stretched ahead. He pushed on.

As he walked deeper into the trees, the path only seemed to get narrower. At first, a carriage would be able to pass easily, as he kept walking it became just as wide as a farming cart. The further he walked, the more the forest closed in on him. At one point, only a horse would be able to make it through the denseness around the path.

Branches began scratching at his shoulders, roots tripping him up. The path kept on getting narrower until it was just about his size. It was almost as if the forest had moulded itself to him in a suffocating way. As Hongjoong pushed a final branch aside, he saw his path at last open once more.

Before him was a clearing in the forest and in it rested hidden an old manor. Everything about its exterior made it clear how it had been washed under the waves of time, the stone dirtied and garden unkept, withered flowers scattered on the outside.

A familiar meow caught Hongjoong’s attention, drawing his gaze towards the front door. The black cat was sitting by the entrance, the ornamented yet worn down double doors seemed to be shut tight. Attempting to open them would prove fruitless and only confirm his suspicion. Locked shut.

Hongjoong glanced down to see the cat’s green eyes staring back up at him. It remained still before turning to the doors and supporting itself against them, scratching the old wood almost as if trying to point at the old silver knocker.

Hongjoong almost wanted to laugh. Wasn’t he losing his mind? He had followed a cat into the forest to an abandoned house and now he thought the cat was telling him to knock? What would knocking at an abandoned house’s door do?

Going against all his own reasoning, Hongjoong found himself nonetheless reaching for the wolf door knocker and hesitantly lifting it with a trembling hand. What was he afraid of? The manor wouldn’t crumble to the ground from him knocking, despite it looking old it still looked very strong and oddly preserved.

The knocker had barely made contact with the doors when it opened for him, revealing a large, deserted room a cold, grey colour. Passing the door’s threshold, Hongjoong invited himself into the manor ever so hesitantly. Anyone could be hiding in a corner or behind that very door, waiting for a moment to strike. He looked behind the door. Empty.

To the left of the room, a fireplace had been built into the wall, decorated with many incredible marble sculptures. In front of said fireplace were three dark divans, still arranged with pillows to lean back against and a table between them. Hongjoong lifted his head to see a beautiful crystal chandelier. But the fireplace was cold and lonely, the divans empty and the chandelier was collecting dust and spiderwebs.

“This must have been a beautiful place…” Hongjoong found himself mumbling under his breath. Just as he did, the cat wandered into the manor and the door closed shut behind it with a loud thud which made Hongjoong lightly jump in place.

With no possible explanation, the fireplace crackled to life by itself, lighting up the room. Hongjoong couldn’t help but follow the black cat with his eyes, watching as it went behind a paper screen he hadn’t noticed was placed to the right of the room. Now with the strong light from the big fireplace across the room, he could still follow its shadow behind the screen, eyes widening as he saw it morph into a human.

“Kitty, kitty~ are you home?” A deep voice came from behind him and Hongjoong briskly turned on his heel, seeing an elegant figure sitting on the right divan, a glass of wine in hand.

“Yes, and I’ve brought you all a present~” A lighter voice which came almost like a purr, moved from behind the screen until Hongjoong saw a pale man with hair as black as the cat’s fur pass next to him and head to the centre divan to take a seat.

The elegant man on the right divan hadn’t even tried to acknowledge Hongjoong’s presence in the room. In fact, neither of them seemed to have tried to acknowledge his presence there. He felt beyond lost. Just who were those people. Did he truly see a cat turn into a human? No, he had seen the shadow of a cat turn into the shadow of a human, surely it was some trick with the light.

“While I do appreciate your presents, Sannie, if it’s another dead bird I’m afraid I’ll have to pass.” The elegant man had light messy hair, a mullet, and almost curly bangs over his forehead. He brought the glass of wine up to his lips, slowly sipping on it.

“None of that. He’s standing right there.” The man whose name Hongjoong now assumed was ‘San’ lazily motioned with his head in his direction. Suddenly he had two pairs of eyes fixated on him, staring at him like he was some sort of mythical creature. How ironic.

“So, it is true. I thought my eyes were trying to deceive me when I looked at…” The elegant man lowered his gaze and sipped his wine once again. “Him. Come now, dear. Take a seat with us, why won’t you? We don’t bite.”

Hongjoong wordlessly frowned and slowly stepped towards the divan to the left, amazed to see the dust on it was now completely gone. Sitting back on the dark pillows, he found himself once again being intently watched by the two.

“Awfully silent, isn’t he? Are you sure you brought the right person, kitty?” The man asked, eyes narrowing as he tilted his wine glass around ever so lightly. “Why won’t you speak to us, dear?”

“Cat got your tongue~?” San, much like cat, rolled over on the divan so he was lying on his stomach, head resting on his arms in his direction. Hongjoong was still trying to take it all in. What was he supposed to say? ‘Nice house you have’? ‘I like your cat’?

“Who are you?” Hongjoong finally spoke. If they wanted him to speak, he could at least hope to have some of his endless questions answered. San smirked and looked at the other who seemed frozen in an oddly calm manner for a few seconds before standing up and walking towards him.

“Fascinating. Even your voice… But forgive my manners. Kang Yeosang, painter, you must have heard of me, surely.” Hongjoong could only stare up at him in silence. He had, in fact, never heard of such a name. “No? Shame. Don’t feel too bad though, dear, no one hears of me anymore.”

While the two were less than informative and did little to answer the many questions he had, he now at least knew his name. The catlike man on the centre divan was San while the elegant painter with messy hair and a glass of wine was Yeosang.

“I believe the name we know you as is… no longer your name and so... to whom do I owe the pleasure of meeting?” Yeosang asked. “Once again.” He then added, smiling. Meeting once again?

“I’m not sure what you mean by that…” Hongjoong started, Yeosang nodding and murmuring a ‘naturally’ under his breath as he awaited a response to his original question. “Hongjoong. My name is Hongjoong.” His voice seemed to echo through the emptiness of the manor. He imagined a place like that would have once had dozens of servants but now it was depressingly empty.

“Is it now…” Yeosang seemed to muse to himself. “Very well. It’s my pleasure to meet you, Hongjoong. You have already met San, our lovely cat~ and I believe you have also met our lovely dog Wooyoung though… he is not yet home.”

“Dog?” Hongjoong asked dumbfounded. It couldn’t be that he meant what he thought he meant. What he had seen back there was no dog.

“Wolf.” San corrected, a lazy smile stretching across his lips, his catlike eyes sparkling at the mention of the name, though soon enough he grew serious, staring intently at Hongjoong. “Before you get any ideas, he is _my_ Wooyoung. _My_ wolf. Everyone else better keep their paws off.” Hongjoong didn’t need to be told twice, one way or another he wasn’t planning on going anywhere near a wolf- willingly at that- any time soon.

“San, it’s not proper to threaten our guests. Especially not this guest, if the master heard you…” Yeosang scolded and Hongjoong was quick to wave his hands dismissively.

“It’s alright, it’s alright…” They hadn’t given him any answers as to why he was there, who they thought he was and why he was the one who had been brought there. Hongjoong watched as San slowly relaxed once again on the divan after his ever so threatening warning.

“Plus, no one here is trying to steal Wooyoung away.” Yeosang continued to comment absentmindedly, pacing in front of the fireplace, and swirling the wine around in his glass.

“Steal me away?” A new voice sounded and Hongjoong looked back at the doors just as San and the elegant painter had done. A man about his height with jet black hair walked in through them, heading straight for the centre divan where the black cat was leaning back with a smug smirk.

“I apologize if I scared you earlier, but it was the only way to have you follow San, otherwise you never would have.” Wooyoung then said, turning to him. It was at least nice to know these people were sane enough to know no person would follow a black cat into the forest after the sunset- and yet Hongjoong had. He could have felt scared and alarmed by these people but instead he felt an odd sense of calm.

A few moments of awkward silence fell between them as Wooyoung got on the centre divan with San, lifting his chin and connecting their lips. He almost acted as if Yeosang and Hongjoong weren’t there with them.

The painter smiled sympathetically in his direction and approached him once again. “Shall we take a stroll? There are still three people you have yet to meet.” He suggested, Hongjoong nodding and standing up with him as well.

“Shouldn’t you be taking him to the master?” Wooyoung’s question was unexpected, making Hongjoong and Yeosang both stop. He had already heard them mention this said master twice but still had no idea who that might be. The painter’s eyes seemed to have grown cold for a fleeting second before the light was back in them and he smiled softly.

“Before a reunion with the others? No, no. I have things under control. You two can go now, thank you for your help.” Yeosang dismissed and led Hongjoong away. He glanced behind at San and Wooyoung on the divan, the wolf watching them walk away intently over the cat’s shoulder.

“You must have a few questions, I know. While there might be things I’m not allowed to answer, I will try my best if you would like to ask.” Yeosang’s voice capture his attention once again and Hongjoong nodded, still feeling quite lost.

“’A few questions’ is a bit of an understatement… I don’t understand any of what’s going on.” Hongjoong admitted, one of his hands reaching back to rub at the back of his neck as Yeosang took him through a side door which led them outside.

“You seemed to take the fact that our San is a cat and Wooyoung a wolf very well. I’m surprised you do not have questions about that.” The painter pressed on a bit as they walked through the gardens, headed towards the back of the manor.

“It’s not that I… I hardly know _what_ to ask.” Hongjoong attempted to explain. Yeosang seemed to find it somehow amusing because it brought a light smile to his lips. “I don’t feel the need to ask as many questions as I thought I did. Despite not knowing anyone or anything, you… all of you feel oddly familiar.” He was hoping that would at least get the painter to reveal something more important.

“Yes, it’s only natural that we do feel familiar to you.” Yeosang agreed emptily.

“Why?” Hongjoong immediately pressed right after the words had left the painter’s lips. Yeosang simply smiled and seemed to be unwilling to give him any answers to that. “I feel I have seen you and this place before. I don’t understand why I felt so willing to come. Why? What’s this place?” Hongjoong asked.

“This is the Park Manor. Shame you don’t seem to remember it, but then again…” Yeosang smiled sadly. “Back then, this manor was full of light and life. Now it’s impossible for us to restore it to its former glory after the last heir passed. Now, we can admire the manor in all it’s beautiful… putridity.”

Hongjoong fell silent. There had been one specific question plaguing the back of his mind for so long, but no time felt like the right time for such a question.

“Ask it.” Yeosang then encouraged as if he could read his mind. Hongjoong wondered if he looked that deep in thought for the other to have caught it as easily.

“You’re… not alive… are you?” Hongjoong asked carefully, expression now far more serious. He tried to search Yeosang’s eyes for an answer in case he refused to give it to him. It sounded like a ridiculous question when asked out loud. How could a person he was talking to not be alive? And yet, there was nothing he wouldn’t believe.

Yeosang stopped walking and turned to him, a smile on his lips and his eyes closed.

At that moment, a gust of wind blew by, messing the painter’s hair further. Once he opened his eyes, they seemed to have an almost eerie glow to them in the dark night despite their deep brown colour. Hongjoong didn’t know if the shiver that ran down his spine was from the cold or the look in Yeosang’s eyes.

“Observant as always, dear. In fact, none of us in this manor are alive, except for you.”


	2. CHAPTER 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Author here! I'm so sorry for the delay on this chapter but I had a terrible writer's block! Hopefully I can get this going again! Let's go~! Hope you enjoy the update~!

Hongjoong felt himself shiver. He was in a manor full of dead people. Ghosts- spirits, more precisely. Then Yeosang, the one he had been talking to so far, was also one of them. He had noticed the painter was unnaturally pale, but he had never considered that the reason for that could have been the lack of blood flowing through his body.

“How… did you die…?” Hongjoong asked on impulse, only realizing how insensitive the question was after it had been asked out loud, his eyes widening. “So sorry! There’s no need to answer that, it’s far too personal!” stuttered out, but the painter didn’t seem bothered by it and instead smiled.

“I’ll tell you if you wish.” Yeosang said, much to Hongjoong’s surprise. “That balcony up top,” He then started, pointing his finger. He followed Yeosang’s finger to see a small balcony at the very top of the manor, even above a far bigger one which he assumed belonged either to the master bedroom or a lounge on the second floor.

“I had always liked the view from up there and so the master allowed me to set up my studio in the attic. I did his paintings for him and in my free time, painted the beautiful scenery.” Hongjoong nodded along with the story, almost sure that he already knew how it was going to end.

“Around the time the master was getting married, I painted him and his spouse so that their painting could join the older ones of the prior family members. However, one night while I was up in the attic adding the final touches to my masterpiece… I felt oddly drawn to the balcony. It was as if I wasn’t in control of my body when I sat up on the railing. Mingi came to check on me, gave me a fright and I slipped.” Yeosang told as if he were telling him his life story instead of how he had died.

“I’m… very sorry.” Hongjoong frowned lightly, not exactly knowing what else he could say of something like that. He had been the one who asked but had no idea how to answer upon being left with such a story in his hands.

“It’s all in the past now, all in the past.” Yeosang assured. “I was the first of many to die within these walls. The servants were confused, didn’t know what to make of it and so some stories started going around about my death. They called it a… broken-hearted suicide if I remember correctly. Unable to be with the love of my life, I preferred to jump to my death.” He paused. “Or so they said.” Yeosang chuckled.

“And who was it that you loved?” Hongjoong then asked curiously, folding his hands behind his back as he continued to follow Yeosang to the back, glancing up at the balcony which still seemed to have the windows open since he could see white curtains gently fluttering.

“Now that’s asking a bit too much, dear.” Yeosang smiled warmly, politely refusing to answer his question, which Hongjoong understood. It was none of his business and just rumours so he wouldn’t pry. He didn’t want to force the painter to talk about his past life.

“I’m sorry. Do you still go up there?” He asked simply because the windows were open. If it were him, it would possibly be hard to return to the place where he had died so he didn’t know how Yeosang would feel about returning to that balcony or passing by the place where he had fallen.

“Goodness, no…! Of course not!” Yeosang’s chuckle was so clear it could be made of glass. “The top floor had little more than the attic, it’s sealed off for good now. While it may have some answers to your questions, I advise against it… It’s… not a pleasant place.” The painter warned and Hongjoong absentmindedly hummed in agreement though something had stuck with him.

It may have some answers to his questions. The top floor? He knew he had been advised against visiting it, but it only fed into his curiosity more.

“Most of the places where we died have been sealed off by the master.” Yeosang continued explaining which at least brought some of Hongjoong’s curiosity back to the story of the manor and of those who lived in it. San and Wooyoung looked incredibly alive but he already knew that wasn’t the case. No human could turn into an animal one way or another.

“Most of the places? Not all of them?” Hongjoong questioned, finding it odd. “And who is this master I’ve heard you speak of?” He asked. It would be the third or forth time he had heard that title with no explanation behind it whatsoever, it was as if they assumed, he knew who they were talking about when he hadn’t the slightest idea.

“Not all of them, two of us died outside. We didn’t want to mess the manor further by sealing off portions of the grounds outside.” Yeosang explanation though hearing him ask who this master was, he seemed to give him some sort of surprised look. “Ah, right. I keep forgetting that you don’t…” The painter trailed off. “Master Park, the last heir of his family, last to live in this manor, that’s the master.”

“The heir?” Hongjoong asked, raising an eyebrow. “A ghost?” He assumed that would be the case, if said master were alive, he would no longer be considered an heir, he would have most likely already inherited by the looks of the manor. It didn’t seem like his parents were around anymore.

“Not… quite.” Yeosang chuckled. “I’ll take you to meet the master soon enough, after we see a couple more people. He should be waking up soon.”

Hongjoong looked up to the sky out of instinct. Had Yeosang said he would be waking up at that hour? The night was just starting. Surely, he had made a mistake. Having reached the back of the manor, they spotted a tall man of dark brown hair standing by the stables and wearing all black.

The dark colour of his clothes was a strong contrast when compared to the lack of colour in his skin, just as pale if not paler than the painter standing next to him.

“Yunho?” Yeosang called out, making the man look in their direction. His eyes lacked any and all life but still had an odd spark to them. “Where is Mingi? He was supposed to be looking after the horses… well, horse…” The painter corrected. Hongjoong looked into the stables and he was immediately mesmerized by the horse.

It was definitely alive but so white it almost looked like an apparition in the night. If he were to find that horse in the wild in the middle of the night, he would easily assume it was a spirit of a horse, beautifully terrifying. Carved on the horse’s door was a name in beautiful lettering. Illusion. A name most definitely fit for a horse such as that one.

“Ah? Mingi? The master… called him upstairs.” If Yunho’s eyes lacked life, his voice was no different. He sounded as if he had no energy but was warm, nonetheless. “He asked me to… keep an eye on Illusion while he doesn’t… get back.” Yunho explained with a smile. Then, the tall man’s eyes focused on Hongjoong. “What... terrible clothes this little master is wearing… is this…?” He couldn’t help but frown.

Hongjoong didn’t have a lot of money, the money he made in the village usually went into buying food, and clothes were most definitely not his priority during the summer, he just hadn’t had the time to go look for warmer clothes yet. Still, he could never hope to dress as beautifully or luxuriously as everyone in that manor was dressed.

“Hongjoong-ssi. This is Hongjoong-ssi.” Yeosang cut in hurriedly. It was clear they all knew something that they were trying to hide from him seeing the way Yunho looked so confused at such a simple name.

“Is it… now…?” Yunho asked even more slowly than he already spoke. Yeosang and Hongjoong simply nodded in confirmation, one a bit more hesitant than the other.  
“Well, now you’ve also met Yunho. Our gravedigger. As you can imagine, he doesn’t dig as much anymore.” Yeosang attempted a small joke, smiling in the living man’s direction. Unfortunately, Hongjoong didn’t seem to understand how he found that amusing.

“It’s uh… a pleasure to meet you.” Hongjoong then said to Yunho who was still staring intently at him. Ever since he had gotten to the manor, everyone seemed to be staring at him as if he had something on his face and it was beginning to aggravate him.

“Likewise, master Hongjoong.” Yunho said and Hongjoong found himself momentarily pausing upon hearing that title. He didn’t know why anyone would call him that and yet it was so awfully familiar, like he had heard it a million times before. He noticed the way Yeosang’s eyes widened when hearing it, as if Yunho had just spoken some sort of forbidden word in front of him.

“What… What did you say?” Hongjoong asked, now being the one staring at Yunho who seemed to suddenly realize what he said and was the one avoiding his gaze, avoiding the eye contact that would follow if he wasn’t careful and raised his eyes a bit too much.

“Likewise?” Yunho mumbled out hesitantly. Even Hongjoong could feel Yeosang glaring daggers, now he wasn’t sure whose gaze exactly the gravedigger was avoiding.

“No, what did you call me?” Hongjoong pressed on insistently. He wouldn’t drop it until he got some answers out of someone there. If Yeosang wouldn’t talk, perhaps Yunho would.

“Hongjoong-ssi, what else… would I have called you?” It was exasperating. Even after a slipup, Yunho refused to tell Hongjoong what he wanted to hear, still he had heard the title clearly. Master Hongjoong. Perhaps he could find someone in the manor who could tell him why he would refer to him like that.

“Well then…!” Yeosang chirped in. “Wonderful speaking to you, Yunho, but we really do have to take our leave now. I must take Hongjoong up to meet the master seeing as he is already awake if he called Mingi up as you said.” Hongjoong swore he saw a look of guilt flash through Yunho’s eyes before he smiled.

“Have a… good night, then.” The gravedigger said ever so softly. Fortunately, Hongjoong realized in time that saying something like ‘don’t stay up too late’ or ‘get some rest too’ to any of them was simply pointless and caught himself, saying his goodbyes to Yunho and heading back inside with the painter.

* * *

Yeosang led him up the luxurious stairway covered in red carpet. Though it was worn and seemed to be torn here and there it was still fancier than anything in his own home. The ghost told him to keep up as they walked through the halls but Hongjoong was distracted by all the painting watching him as they hung on the wall.

He didn’t understand how some people could live like that. He understood preserving the past and a family’s legacy, but could anyone truly feel comfortable living in a place with so many paintings of the dead watching their every move? It was but a chilling sight for Hongjoong.

When he did look back, Yeosang was long gone. He had gotten distracted in one of the halls and now he was lost in the far too big manor. Hongjoong wandered down the hall, a bit too distracted for his own good because it didn’t take long before he walked right into someone, muttering a quick ‘sorry’. His eyes scanned the man’s body up to his neck. He looked like someone who would have been quite tall… if he weren’t missing his head!

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you there!” He heard a deep voice say. Was that the headless man’s voice? Something wasn’t right, the sound didn’t come from where the head would have previously been, instead it came from near Hongjoong’s feet on the floor.

Lowering his eyes towards the sound, he couldn’t hold back a scream. By his feet was the head missing from the body’s neck, a mess of black locks and round glasses resting on the bridge of his nose. The head was speaking by itself without being attached to the body and screamed too at his scream, the body moving to place a hand over his heart.

“Ah! Why did you scream, you scared me!” The head said again, the body coming to pick it up and place it back on top of his neck. He attached it on as if it were nothing while Hongjoong could only stare in shock, feeling as if he had paled a bit from that sight.

“I scared you…?!” He stuttered out, dumbfounded. How was he the one to scare a headless ghost who had bumped into him in the middle of the hall?

“Yes, sorry… I wasn’t expecting you to scream like that…” The ghost said sheepishly. “I heard all about you from San, uh… I’m Mingi!” Hongjoong was still in shock though he wasn’t sure if it was due to the fact that he had just witnessed someone attach their head back to their neck or because Mingi was being so nonchalant about everything.

“…Right. Mingi. What happened to your head?” Hongjoong finally got himself to ask. He could clearly see the line where his neck would split from his head and in all honesty, it freaked him out a bit.

“It fell off.” After that, the two of them stared at each other in silence for a few moments. So that was the man who had technically scared Yeosang to death while he was still alive? Hongjoong really did feel bad, what a way to go… scared by someone who looked so incredibly harmless it almost hurt.

“Yes, I… I can see that… That wasn’t… the question…” He tiredly massaged his temple with two fingers, not really trying to explain what he actually meant by the question. He had almost forgotten the main point which was that he had lost Yeosang somewhere in the halls.

“Hongjoong? Keep up…!” Speak of the devil, the painter came around the corner and called him. He bid Mingi a quick goodbye and quickly caught up. He didn’t understand how someone could look so innocent and yet so frightening at the exact same time without even having to speak a word.

“A word of warning.” Yeosang started as they followed the red carpet down the hall. “Our master can be… a bit harsh at times. If for some reason that happens to be the case with you, please do not take it personally. Our master has been through a lot and he is a most gentle soul, just… not with everyone. I, for instance, am quite close with our master because we have known each other for a very long time now. I’m just warning you now because I wouldn’t want you to be frightened by him…”

A warning for Hongjoong to not be frightened could only make him anxious for what was to come. He didn’t know what kind of person this undead master was, and the painter had made it sound all but promising.

“I’ll keep it in mind… uh… forgive my question but… you said you were quite close with the master. What exactly is your relationship?” Hongjoong asked curiously, now keeping his eyes on Yeosang for any sort of subtle reaction. The painter seemed to smile softly.

“Well, I am his painter, I don’t know what else you want me to say.” There was a simple reason why he had asked. He had heard Yeosang mention the heir’s spouse once and briefly mention they were going to get married but that mysterious person wasn’t mentioned again, not even given a name, so he assumed something must have happened. It wouldn’t be surprising if the master had picked a lover. As daring as it was to indirectly ask a man that, he couldn’t help himself.

“There is nothing I want you to say, I was simply curious.” Hongjoong answered. “His spouse, what ever happened to her?” This time, he was certain he saw Yeosang tense at the question, his shoulders becoming the slightest bit stiffer as he drew in a breath.

“We don’t speak of that. Don’t speak of that to the master either. Poor dear passed away and not even the spirit stayed with us. Completely gone, poor thing.” The painter at last answered, sounding less than willing to talk about the subject as if those words would cut his tongue.

“All of you… Everyone else stayed here in this house, right?” Hongjoong asked, a light frown coming to his face. Something did not make sense. Every other spirit seemed to be trapped there and yet the master’s spouse had simply disappeared into thin air. “Why not her as well? Out of everyone here, would she not have the strongest reason to stay?”

Hongjoong almost walked into Yeosang when the painter stopped walking to silently, standing in silence for just a moment before turning to look at him. The other was smiling but Hongjoong cold feel a clear coldness in that smile, like it was there but at the same time it wasn’t.

“Hongjoong-ssi…” Yeosang started, giving what sounded like half exasperated sigh despite his smile. “You want to go home, correct? If that’s the case, dear, then please do keep your curiosity at bay. These are our matters to deal with, so you need not worry. I told you we don’t speak of that. Let’s make your visit swift.”

Hongjoong could only sulk a bit. He had definitely just been scolded by someone who looked younger than him and yet he knew Yeosang had been around for far longer considering the way he dressed and how he spoke.

Nodding and lowering his head, he kept following the painter down the hall until the two of them stopped before a pair of large red doors and Yeosang lifted a hand to knock twice. Hongjoong was a bit surprised to see him bow when the doors weren’t even open. Out of everyone, he seemed to respect the master the most.

“Master, are you awake? I have brought you the one San has led here.” Yeosang called out softly from his half bowing position and Hongjoong could only stare speechlessly as the doors opened by themselves, leading to a dark bed chamber with what looked to be an office desk on the side.

The room itself was quite large, clearly the master bedroom in a manor of that size. Yeosang signalled Hongjoong to follow him inside.  
Hongjoong froze on the spot.

Sitting at the desk was a pale man with raven hair and piercing dark eyes. Master Park’s eyes didn’t rest on Yeosang for a single second when the two of them came in, instead staring at Hongjoong as if he had seen a ghost.

He had to bring a hand up to his temple and winced softly, a strong headache suddenly pulsating through his head though at the same time it was as if everything stopped for just a moment when their eyes met. What was that? Why did it hurt so much? He wanted to run away from those eyes as fast as possible.

“Is this supposed to be some kind of joke.” Master Park’s voice filled the silence which had settled between them. Though it wasn’t as deep as he had expected it to be, it had carried an intensity that forced Hongjoong to take a small step back while Yeosang stood in place. “Yeosang, I asked you a question.”

Hongjoong’s thoughts were swimming in his mind, he almost felt lightheaded. He didn’t understand what was going on and could only stare at the painter for some kind of answer, hoping he would just say something to cut through the atmosphere that was suffocating him.

“Master, San ignored all my advice against bringing anyone else here… I simply brought you the human so that we could make his visit as swift as possible.” The painter answered.  
“I thought I made myself clear when I told San to stop bringing humans that look like him.” Hongjoong finally snapped out of it, frowning in confusion. What did he mean by that? Humans that looked like him.

“That… look like me…?” Even though his voice was quiet, it was enough for the heir’s gaze to fall on his once again, something unreadable burning in his eyes. It was the same look that made Hongjoong want to take more and more steps back, the eyes that made him want to run.

“Quiet. Do not speak. Out. This a matter I must discuss with Yeosang, you are not welcome here. Find your way out and do not come back.” Hongjoong would have argued but the look Yeosang gave him clearly told him to do as he was told.

Numbly, Hongjoong made his way out, the doors slamming behind him barely making him flinch.

Master Park… He seemed so harsh and cold with him. But to Hongjoong, his eyes looked so sad.


	3. CHAPTER 3

Ever since the moment Hongjoong’s eyes first met those cold, dark ones, he could feel his body and mind slowly numbing to a pleasant nothingness. The hallway once lit brightly with the lamps on the walls was now dim and desolate, nearly freezing in its emptiness. Master Park’s voice as well as Yeosang’s vanished into silence as soon as the doors were slammed shut. He wanted to go home. He had wanted to go home, and yet a newfound heaviness filled his chest.

_‘You are not welcome here. Find your way out and do not come back.’_

What had he done? Hongjoong hadn’t been the one willingly making his way through the woods to find such a desolate, abandoned place. He hadn’t been the one willingly following a black cat into the shadows. He hadn’t come willingly, had he? He wanted to believe his own curiosity wasn’t at fault. Curiosity killed the cat and that atmosphere- that suffocating, imprisoning atmosphere was enough to drain the spirit of even those already taken by death.

_‘Master Hongjoong? Come with me, sir. I am waiting for you. Sir, it’s been so long…’_

A voice sounded inside his head, calling out to him, coaxing him into moving. Hongjoong floated in a dreamlike state, eyelids feeling heavier by the second and a cold, soft haze clouding his thoughts. As if not in control of his own body, he found himself moving step by step yet with ease through the complicated hallways as if he knew them like the palm of his hand.

Hongjoong didn’t spare a look at the painting on the walls, finding that the gazes that previously disturbed him were hardly worth a second glance. Further down the hall, the path made a sharp turn to the right and hidden away in a corner was a dimly lit, narrow staircase. Not only was the width of the staircase narrow, the steps were too. Hongjoong wouldn’t be able to fit half his foot on a step and yet he found himself silently climbing on his tiptoes in the dark.

The staircase didn’t seem lead very high up when he had looked at it from the bottom but now that he was climbing it, it felt endless. Hongjoong felt as if the steps were moving from under him, teasing him into climbing forever until eventually they did come to an end. He found himself before a boarded doorway with no door though only two pieces of wood were hammered in place and he slipped in between the two of them with ease. It didn’t seem like they were there to keep anything in or out but instead simply as a sign to stay away.

_‘Yes, Master Hongjoong… right through here, just a bit further now…’_

That floor’s ceiling was lower than the one he had been in before and the single hallway was narrower as well. Whatever that floor was, it gave Hongjoong a claustrophobic feeling- like he needed to get out, to run, to breathe. The floorboards had clearly not been taken care of in decades as they creaked quietly under his feet, sometimes almost threatening to cave in and send him plummeting down into darkness. Now that he walked closer, the voice grew clearer and louder.

_‘My poor Master… How could Master Seonghwa say such things to you…’_

Master Seonghwa? Who was he? He hadn’t heard that name before and yet it made his chest burn and ache just like those eyes he feared so much did. The name itself was enough to freeze him in place momentarily. Who was Master Seonghwa? As if reading his mind, the voice sounded once again.

_‘Master Park. Park Seonghwa. The head of the household and heir of a legacy long forgotten. The man with the raven hair and dark coal eyes. I know you’ve met him. His eyes… they burn, do they not? Come to me… I can take your pain away, Master…’_

He kept on walking, approaching that unknown voice more and more every step he took. Behind him, the darkness consumed the hallway, almost as if following him to swallow him whole as well, trapping him where no one would find him again. The numbness taking over him didn’t allow him to feel the fear he should have felt as the walls seemed to almost close in on him.

The hallway got narrower and narrower until he had no other choice but to turn his body sideways to keep pushing forward. That wasn’t the kind of hallway he would have expected to see in a once luxurious manor but in a cave or mineshaft. The narrow path kept on getting tighter and tighter until both his chest and back were rubbing against the walls and he had to keep his head turned to the side as well.

Just like in the forest, the path suddenly opened once again leading to a short dark hallway with a single door at the very end. The door wasn’t old or worn like the others in the manor, instead it looked as if it had been frozen in time, the painting on it perfect and untouched without the slightest hint of rust on the golden doorknob.

As Hongjoong was about to reach out and open it, something froze his hand mid-air. A shaky breath left his lips, slipping out as a soft puff of steam. When had the air around him gotten so cold? Slowly, the door’s lock clicked, and it slid open to a moonlit room filled with all sorts of shapes covered in white sheets.

Slowly, the numbing feeling on his body began to fade away leaving only his mind clouded by the same haze from before. Hongjoong reached forward to grab one of the white sheets and pull it off to the floor. It slid down with ease, revealing a beautiful marble bust of a familiar face. It was a wonderfully sculpted bust of Yeosang with a crown of flowers adorning his hair. The room seemed to be a sculptor’s workshop.

Further ahead in the room, something caught Hongjoong’s eye. A particularly beautiful yet unfinished statue twice his size was toppled on the floor and under it, something smaller was covered by a white sheet like all the other sculptures in the room, yet that sheet had very prominent dark stains on it. Confused or maybe curious, Hongjoong approached it and knelt. As he was about to pull the sheet off like he had done to the other, he felt a breath against his neck and a voice behind him.

“Please don’t touch me, Master…” The voice now clearly belonged to a young man, the same voice that that had been coaxing him into finding it.

Hongjoong hesitantly turned his head only to find himself face to face with a boy who seemed to be slightly taller than he was even though they were about the same height. The boy looked younger but only by a couple years and despite that, he still looked stronger than Hongjoong. His skin didn’t have any color or warmth. A ghost.

“You? Are you… under that sheet?” Hongjoong’s words trembled as he uttered them, glancing over as the dark stains began looking more and more like the remains of absorbed, dried blood on a cloth. The spirit gave but a slow nod of confirmation and he felt a shiver run down his spine.

“Master…” The boy called once again, asking for Hongjoong’s attention. Hearing that title now didn’t feel as foreign as it did the first time when it came from the gravedigger’s lips.

“I’m not… your master…” Hongjoong uttered weakly, feeling the haze made it harder to speak, made him more tired. It was harder to focus, to think. “Why do you keep… calling me master… I don’t know… you…” As he heard that, the look in the spirit’s eyes seemed to flash with disappointment.

“Does my master truly not recognize me?” At that, Hongjoong fell silent. It wasn’t as if that face, that presence didn’t feel as familiar as everyone else in that manor did, but he couldn’t put a name to his face or connect a single memory to that energy. “Come… I’ll help you remember… I have the answers you’re looking for, master.”

And with that, the spirit turned and walked out the door into that small, dark hallway. Hongjoong felt his body heavy as he stood up and trailed behind, only now noticing there were paintings covered by sheets as well on the walls. Either he hadn’t noticed them on his way in or they simply hadn’t been there earlier.

The young man stopped right in front of a specific painting, one that wasn’t covered by a sheet like the others. The background of the painting was a familiar room Hongjoong had already been. The study where he had met Master Park. At the front of the table, before the large desk, stood the man himself and next to him…

“Who is that next to Master Park?” Hongjoong asked. Was that the painting Yeosang had been working on before he fell to his death? Was that the portrait of the master and his fiancé? No matter how much he looked, he couldn’t make out the woman’s face. It had been painted over in black.

“I can’t tell you that, master… please look closely…” The spirit insisted, sounding almost a bit distressed seeing that Hongjoong couldn’t recognize whoever was in the painting. While the person’s face was blacked out, the rest of their body was still perfectly visible. Instead of wearing a dress, the figure wore a luxurious vest and long jacket to match the master’s own clothes.

“Look closely? Their face has been painted over; I can’t make it out in the slightest. Is this a man? Who is it? Someone from Park Seonghwa’s past?” Hongjoong asked, now doubting that the painting on the wall was a portrait of the master and his fiancé.

As Hongjoong was about to turn around and face the young man, he felt him wrap his arms around his neck from behind, pressing against his back and inching him closer to the painting. Hongjoong felt the need to avert his gaze as even in the painting, those eyes didn’t fail to freeze his heart and burn into his very soul.

“Focus… Master, focus… I know you can see it. You must see it. Please, you must help us. You must help _him_. I beg you.” Hongjoong looked closer and closer at the face covered with black paint and, melting into spirit’s words, it seemed as if the paint began to drip away. Second by second, the features of the mysterious figure became clearer and clearer until the face he saw was undeniably familiar. Hongjoong felt his blood run cold and eyes widen in fear. It was his own face.

“Is that me? What’s… the meaning of this…? Am I… dead…?” Hongjoong’s voice wavered but no one answered his question, the spirit simply held onto him tighter.

“Master, you mustn’t forget who you were or who we were. If you don’t, then no living person ever will. You can’t leave this place. No matter what he says or does, you can’t leave this place. Don’t let him take you away again.” The spirit whispered. “He’s coming… he’s listening to us as we speak… Don’t say a word. I hope he hears me… and remembers I’m here…” Hongjoong’s gaze shot to the narrow path he had come from and while it was devoured by darkness, he could swear that for a second, he caught a glimpse of an eye wide open, staring at them, watching them from the other side of the hallway’s narrowest point.

“Remember my name…” The spirit whispered behind him. “Choi… Jong… Ho…”

And so, everything began fading to black. The arms around his neck felt heavier and heavier, his vision blurring and darkening until he was consumed by what felt like an unfightable sleepiness. One he couldn’t wake up from no matter how hard he tried. If he tried. Choi… Jong… Ho…

* * *

Hongjoong slowly forced his eyes open, blinking away the blurriness that wouldn’t allow him to fully take in where he was. It wasn’t dark or cold anymore. Through the haze clouding his vision as if peering through a foggy glass, he could see a warm light coming from his left. What he now lied on wasn’t the hard floor of the attic but something softer.

Little by little, he became aware of two voices speaking around him, a bit muffled still but surely not from distance, the light on the left having dimmed a bit as if someone were standing over him and covering it.

“Do you… think he’s… dead…?” The first voice asked, a slow and nervous voice on his left. It sounded awfully familiar and yet it still took him a few moments to realize it belonged to the gravedigger, Yunho.

“He’s not dead! Can’t you see he’s breathing?!” A deeper voice answered right away, and a shadow loomed over Hongjoong’s right side. He found it easier to recognize the second voice, it being distinctively deep. It could only belong to Mingi.

“Are you… sure…? I did hit him… pretty hard… with the shovel…” Hongjoong struggled to focus his vision, his body ached all over and he had the strange feeling it had something to do with that the gravedigger said about hitting him with a shovel. He couldn’t recall anything like that ever happening. Had he been hit so hard he forgot about it?

“He’s clearly not dead! He’s not cold or anything… Why did Yeosangie bring him to his room though… and what was he even doing up there?!”

“You’re being… too loud for… Master Hongjoong… Oh…! He’s… waking up…!” Yunho mumbled. There it was, that title once again. The title, the picture- Hongjoong’s vision finally focused enough for him to sit up in bed, now being met with two pairs of eyes filled with concern staring at him.

Yunho once again had a guilty look on his face for what he assumed was the shovel incident that he did not remember.

“Hongjoong-ssi, you’re… awake… is your head… feeling alright…?” Yunho always spoke slowly but warmly, even more when he was embarrassed or nervous about something. “I-I didn’t… want to hit you… but you were… running around like… a madman… I didn’t know what…” He glanced over at Mingi, sighing. “What to do…”

Being knocked out by a shovel was surprisingly not what he wanted to ask about the most, instead something else that Yunho said left him extremely confused.

“What was I doing…? You said you saw me running around…?” Hongjoong asked, bringing a hand up to his head with a hiss as he felt it throbbing. As warm and comforting as Yunho looked, he was quite strong. Then again, he didn’t know what he had been expecting from a gravedigger.

It was Mingi’s turn to look at him, puzzled. The taller man pushed the round glasses up the bridge of his nose and frowned.

“Do you not remember? We all thought you had lost your mind… You ran over to Sannie, screaming something about a corpse in the attic… Then… you ran outside to the stable where Yunho and I were… You started shaking me and telling me I had to see the dead body in the top floor…” As he finished, Mingi glanced over at Yunho. That must have been when Yunho hit him with the shovel.

“I’m… so sorry…” Yunho apologized sincerely. “I couldn’t… We couldn’t… risk alerting… the master… it would have been… far worse…” He mumbled; head lowered as Mingi reached for his hand.

“No, it’s alright…” Hongjoong never thought he would hear himself dismissing someone who had done such a thing to him, but he didn’t have the heart to reprimand the gravedigger for it, especially knowing that shutting him up one way or the other saved him from possibly meeting those eyes again.

“However, there really is a corpse in the attic.” Hongjoong then said firmly. He couldn’t care less if they thought he was crazy; he knew what he had seen. The spirit he had talked to felt far too real even in his dreamlike state.

Yunho and Mingi exchanged worried looks and Hongjoong already knew what was going through their minds. They thought he was insane. They thought he had lost his mind.

“Hongjoong-ssi, maybe you should rest a bit longer…?” Mingi suggested with a sympathetic smile but the man could only frown and stand up, leaving the bed.

“If you don’t believe me, I’ll show you! What floor is this?” Hongjoong asked in a hurry. He hadn’t seen a bedroom like that one before and the ground floor was unlikely to have any rooms in it. He knew he had gone up the stairs to the attic from the first floor, but the mansion certainly had more than two floors when he had seen it from the outside. Something was simply not making sense.

“This is… the second floor…” Yunho answered hesitantly, almost as if wondering whether he should be answering his questions and helping him along in what he was convinced was a delusion.

“I knew it, something doesn’t make sense… Is the attic above us?” Hongjoong asked, looking up at the ceiling. The manor was old and as luxurious as it was, the ceiling was still wood. If his assumption about that spirit’s death was correct, then…

“Uh… no, the attic is above the third floor.” Mingi answered, following along with Yunho since he had done the same. Hongjoong who was heading to the door stopped, confused. A third floor? At the time, it really hadn’t felt like he had climbed through two floors of stairs.

“Third floor… Right. Follow along then…!” Hongjoong wasn’t crazy. He wasn’t crazy. He knew what he had seen. He heard Yunho and Mingi quickly scramble after him when he left the bedroom he was in hurriedly.

The second floor or at least that wing seemed to be filled with rooms, possibly guest rooms and rooms for the servants, he assumed. Hongjoong took no time finding the stairs, making his way up to the third floor which looked no different than the second floor. More rooms?

Hongjoong ran to a window to see the path Yeosang had used to take him back to the stables. So that was the east wing of the manor. He knew the master’s study was on the first floor’s west wing and from whatever he remembered of all the twists and turns he took through the hallways before he reached the stairs, and the path he took in the attic… yes, he had been heading east. That was the right place.

“Hongjoong-ssi, please slow down…! You just woke up after being hit really hard, you shouldn’t be running around!” Mingi called behind him. For the most part, Mingi was still trying to keep up. Yunho, however… he seemed to just be walking after them instead of running.

Hongjoong looked around at the rooms before running towards a specific door. That room should be right above the sculptor’s workshop if he wasn’t mistaken. His hand grabbed for the doorknob but- locked.

“That would be my room, dear.” Hongjoong quickly turned his head, his heart jumping in surprise at the unexpected voice. Leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway of bed chambers was a familiar elegant figure with a glass of red wine in hand once again, swirling it around. “Is there something you need from it? Or from me? Don’t be shy.” Yeosang stepped forward, towards him.

He looked a bit more… empty than the last time he had seen him. His eyes didn’t light up in the same way they did before. Hongjoong found himself a bit flustered since he had unknowingly been trying to break into Yeosang’s room when he wasn’t there.

“This might be too much to ask… but do you think we could take a look inside?” Hongjoong then asked, gathering whatever confidence he still had inside him. “I’ll make it quick… there’s just… something I need to confirm…” He said meekly, fully expecting Yeosang to deny his request after having him try to get into the room without his permission.

“Yes, that’s quite alright.” Yeosang answered, much to his surprise. He brought out a small key and unlocked the door for them, stepping aside and motioning with his hand for them to walk in. Hongjoong found himself a bit hesitant but made his way inside either way, Yunho and Mingi following close behind him.

The room had a warm and cosy yet still elegant feel to it. Yeosang kept beautiful flowers on his windowsill and a canvas with a half-finished painting a gorgeous scenery near it. Hongjoong glanced over at something that caught his eye on Yeosang’s bedside table. There was a hand sculpted out of marble with various rings on its fingers though one of them truly looked like an engagement ring.

“So? What was it you wanted to see in my room, dear?” Yeosang asked, bringing his focus back to the task at hand. Right. Hongjoong looked up and started searching the ceiling.

As he looked closer to the window, he finally found what he was looking for. His breath almost caught in throat. He had always believed that he had seen it right but seeing it now, seeing that it hadn’t been a dream or a delusion… it made everything so much more real and he had so many questions.

“Right… there…” Hongjoong pointed up at the ceiling, hearing a quiet gasp from Mingi and what sounded like a surprised hum from the gravedigger. Right where he was pointing, the wood had a clear dark stain. Before he died, the spirit must have bled so much he had seeped through the wooden floor and seeing as the body had never been removed, it was more than possible.

“Oh goodness… Don’t tell me that’s…” Hongjoong turned, hearing Yeosang’s voice. The painter looked quite shaken by it and understandably so. “Had it always been visible from… my room… and I never noticed it…”

Hongjoong nodded slowly.

“Do you believe me now? There is someone in the attic. Jongho… He died upstairs and his body was never moved.” He had expected to see some kind of reaction from the other three once he spoke the spirit’s name, but they simply stared at him blankly.

“Are you certain about the name?” Yeosang then asked, frowning in confusion and placing his wine glass down to lean against the wall once again. “I have met everyone who has worked here since I came to the manor. I have never once heard of a Choi Jongho…”

Hongjoong couldn’t help but look at the painter in silence for a few moments, Yeosang meeting his eyes as well. His gaze looked just as concerned as the ones on Yunho and Mingi’s eyes.

“I haven’t… heard of a… Jongho either…” Yunho added, tilting his head and looking at Mingi who shook his head as to say he hadn’t heard of the young man either. He knew that Jongho had called Park Seonghwa ‘Master Seonghwa’, did that not mean he once worked for him as well?

Hongjoong paced the room towards the door past the other three before turning to face them.

“Come with me then.” He said firmly. “To the attic, that is.” He clarified. “I’m sure of what I saw. I spoke to him, he told me his name. Yeosang, just like you said… There might be answers to my questions in the attic and there are such confusing things… that perhaps you would be willing to help me understand…”

It was nearly pitiful to ask like that, but he still had so many questions about a body being forgotten on the top floor and more than anything about the painting of someone who looked so much like him next to Park Seonghwa. It couldn’t possibly be him because he wouldn’t have been alive at the time.

“I will come along!” Mingi was the first to offer. “If it helps answer your questions, I’ll help.”

“Not so fast.” The voice that came from the hallway right behind Hongjoong didn’t belong to Yeosang, Mingi or Yunho but it was equally as familiar. He felt himself tense up on the spot.

“You’ve been nothing but trouble since San brought you here. I told you that you were not welcome and yet you still refused to leave. Still, you look and sound so much like him it’s sickening.” The voice continued and Hongjoong finally found the courage to turn around.

Park Seonghwa and his dark, sad eyes. For a man who looked so young, his gaze held the weight of the world, like the deepest resentment and most painful suffering swam hand in hand in those deep coal irises.

They didn’t burn anymore, it no longer hurt.

“Just who are you…” The master muttered.


	4. CHAPTER 4

That was the first time Hongjoong was able to keep himself from tearing his gaze away from those dark eyes. For the first time, he stared deep into them almost as if searching for something there, asides from that sadness and coldness they carried. Anything else. He was sure that the man before him couldn’t be such a void of life and warmth.

“My name is Kim Hongjoong.” He answered steadily, watching the way Seonghwa almost flinched when hearing the name. “I’m a nobody from the village across the bridge so I don’t have a title to present you. Kim Hongjoong is all I am.”

“Is that really your name?” As sharp as Seonghwa’s words were, they didn’t cut as deep anymore. He didn’t feel the need to step back as if retreating to create a safe distance between the two of them. “If one of them told you to use that as your name to save your life, you can confess now before it’s too late. If I find you’re lying to me-”

“Master-” From the three frozen behind Hongjoong, Yeosang was the first to step forward and he saw Seonghwa’s eyes almost change back into that burning gaze from the first time they met, now sending the painter a sharp gaze and making him fall silent on the spot. Hongjoong remained calm and composed after he had allowed himself to relax.

“I have nothing to hide from you, Master Park. I don’t see why I would lie about my identity and no one has told me to act this way. There are a lot of questions I still have that no one seems to be willing to answer.” Hongjoong had to stand his ground, he couldn’t back down now.

Instead of answering him as he had hoped, Seonghwa instead stared deep into his eyes almost as if still looking for some sort of deceit when there was none. Without looking away from his eyes, Seonghwa spoke once again, now in a calmer, more poised manner.

“Yunho, Yeosang.” He called, the two men almost immediately stepping forward and bowing their heads, Hongjoong glancing back at them to see the way the painter’s hands were gripped together so tightly and the gravedigger’s eyes so filled with uncertainty as to what he would be asked to do.

“Prepare dinner.” The request was clearly unexpected to everyone involved seeing as the three exchanged silent confused gazes and Hongjoong turned back to look at the master who still hadn’t taken his eyes off him. “Hongjoong and I will dine together tonight, and I will find out if he really is who he claims to be.”

Hongjoong couldn’t help but feel any and all hope of returning to the attic drifting further and further away from him, out of his grasp. Now that he had found some sort of evidence that he wasn’t delusional, that Choi Jongho really had died in the attic, he was being torn away from it once again.

“Now.” Seonghwa pressed, Yeosang and Yunho nodding hurriedly and making their way out of the room, out of sight. “You will wait until you are called for dinner.” The master told him, turning on his heel and leaving behind the first two men, leaving Hongjoong alone with Mingi in the painter’s room.

“Well, you’ve heard the master… I’ll keep you company in the common room if you’d like…” The taller suggested, Hongjoong nodding numbly as something completely different filled his mind.

“Go on ahead, I will meet you there.” And with that, Mingi walked out and left him on his own. Looking back up at the ceiling, Hongjoong stood under the dark stain on the wood before looking at his feet. On the floor rested a beautiful light carpet, not a single stain on it.

Hongjoong carefully stepped off it and knelt on the floor, lifting said carpet to find something odd at best. Right below the stain on the ceiling, the floor’s wood was also darker and more worn with faded hints of red. It looked as if someone had been incessantly, almost obsessively, scrubbing at the floor to make the stains disappear. So, the blood really had dripped down from the floor above? The carpet was perfectly placed to cover the bit of worn wood.

* * *

Hongjoong and Mingi sat on the center divan in silence, somewhere in between awkward and tense. He had been told to wait and there was nothing else he could do but just that. Wait until he was called by the master. Neither of them seemed to know what to say nor did they seem willing to risk attempting to start a conversation with the other for a few excruciatingly long moments. Hongjoong kept his eyes on the fire dancing in the fireplace, so close to them and yet seeming as if it provided no warmth at all.

“So…” He glanced over as Mingi spoke, waiting for him to continue. He didn’t.

“You owe me an apology.” Hongjoong spoke instead, deciding to finally break the awkward silence that had been filling the room for so long now. Mingi, however, looked extremely confused as to why he would owe him an apology. “For not believing in what I was telling you, for thinking I’d lost my mind.” He clarified.

“We still haven’t had the chance to go into the attic and verify if what you said was true or not.” Mingi answered, much to the shorter man’s shock. It seemed that his surprise was all too clear in his eyes seeing as Mingi offered him some sort of apologetic smile.

“Are- Are you saying you still don’t believe me?!” Hongjoong stood from the couch. How could Mingi possibly not believe him after they had seen the same ominous stain on the ceiling? It was clear, was it not? It couldn’t possibly be a leak, it looked dry and nothing had been dripping down into the room itself, not to mention water would never leave such a dark stain.

“Don’t take it personally, it’s just that we’ve been here for so many years that it seems a bit unbelievable. If there really was someone up there, do you not think we would remember them or at least have noticed something by now?” Mingi made his point quite clearly.

Hongjoong hated to admit but his reasoning did make sense. It certainly made a lot more sense than his own theory based on what felt like a dream. He didn’t remember running around like a lunatic. How could he say for certain it hadn’t all been a hallucination? The lack of sleep, the lack of food, the shock of suddenly finding himself in a manor filled with spirits… would that not be enough to mess with his head?

Hongjoong preferred to change the subject instead of acknowledging that Mingi could be right, sitting down on the dark divan once again and staring back into the flames still doing their mysterious dance over the burning wood and ashes it left behind.

“Where are San and Wooyoung? I haven’t seen them since I first arrived here…” Hongjoong asked. Fortunately, Mingi seemed to understand he changed the subject and seemed at least a bit willing to go along with it though he only gave him a small shrug at first. Just as Hongjoong was about to press for more information- speak of the devil.

A door to the left of the luxurious staircase leading to the first floor slammed open and San walked out in a hurry, only freezing where he stood when he seemed to sense both Hongjoong and Mingi’s eyes on him. The sight of the cat he was met with wasn’t what he had been expecting. Instead of the lazy smile he usually wore on his lips, his cheeks were now glistening with tears dripping down from his watery eyes.

Hongjoong watched as San flinched and, turning his head away from them, turned back into that black cat he had first seen on his way home, the small animal running out the manor’s door. Soon after, a second figure came out of the same room but this one walked slower. It was Wooyoung.

On the wolf’s cheek there were now glaringly obvious fresh scratch marks from what looked to be a cat’s nails, his eyes just as watery as San’s had been when he left the manor. Hongjoong knew he shouldn’t pry in other people’s business, but he found himself oddly concerned about the cat while Mingi seemed to focus on Wooyoung more than anything. When the taller of the three asked the wolf what had happened, he had a short and cold response for them.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Wooyoung muttered under his breath. Instead of going outside after San, he headed upstairs instead while Hongjoong watched in surprised. When he had first gotten there, they seemed like they couldn’t be away from each other but now Wooyoung didn’t even try to go after San. Something was clearly wrong.

Getting up once again, Hongjoong ran outside after the black cat, ignoring Mingi’s calls asking him where he was going. The dinner could wait, he needed to find San first and understand what was happening. Looking around outside, Hongjoong caught a glimpse of a tail as dark as night sneaking off the back of the manor and took no time running after it.

“San? San…! Wait-” He called out even if his efforts to keep the cat from running were useless. He wouldn’t even slow down or look back at him. Hongjoong could clearly see him now, the small black cat running into the gardens near the stables and disappearing into the maze of flowers and wonderful scents.

Hongjoong felt almost disoriented the further he ran into the garden, feeling as if everything looked the same no matter where he ran as if he were walking in circles. That is, until he heard the sound of soft sobbing from his right. Using the sound to guide him instead of his eyes, he found his way out of the flowers and found himself at a beautiful fountain and San, who was sitting by it, was the source of the soft sobbing he had heard.

“San…?” Hongjoong called carefully. The cat looked startled at first and was quick to muffle his sobs, lowering his gaze to his feet. Seeing as the other didn’t say he wanted to be left alone, he came closer, sitting next to him by the fountain. It was a beautiful piece, the sides having roses sculpted into them and at the top the water poured out of an open lotus flower. It was as if spring was awakening no matter the season.

“What happened…?” Since the cat didn’t speak up, Hongjoong figured he would keep on asking only getting a bit frightened when San looked at him, a sharp and almost cold look in his eyes, one that looked very uncharacteristic of him.

“Does it seem to you like I want to talk about it?” San asked sharply, meeting Hongjoong’s eyes. Behind the tears and hurt oh so clear in them, he could still see San wanted to be listened to, almost as if behind that razor sharp coldness, he was somehow begging him not to go, to stay there with him and listen to him.

“Yes.” Hongjoong answered, clearly catching San off guard seeing as his glare softened and he frowned a bit instead, bringing his knees up to his chest and resting his chin on his legs. “And I can listen if you want me to. What did Wooyoung do…?”

“I don’t even want to hear that name! He-” San snapped out so suddenly he almost started Hongjoong again. “I can’t believe he would do something like this and then lie to my face! Does he think I’m stupid? Did I really mean nothing to him?” San seemed to almost melt a bit from exhaustion after that, resting his head on Hongjoong’s shoulder as if he were already comfortable with him.

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Hongjoong asked, watching from the corner of his eye as the sound of the fountain behind them seemed to soothe San a bit, his breathing a bit softer now as he rested against his shoulder. The cat nodded slightly.

“I had been looking for Wooyoung all over… He left earlier after you ran into me, saying that there was something he needed to take care of, but he never did come back so I got worried and I went looking for him. When I found him in the hall…” San trailed off and Hongjoong felt him tense. “When I found him in the hall… Wooyoung was kissing _him_ …”

Hongjoong could hardly hide his shock. Earlier that night, the two of them seemed to be so in love, enough to walk to the edge of the world for the other. He couldn’t even begin to imagine that Wooyoung would kiss anyone else. There had to be an explanation for what he had seen- anything else.

“Are you sure he really did do that-”

“I saw it with my own eyes, Hyung!” San answered before he could even finish his question. _Hyung?_ San was obviously much older than Hongjoong, so why… “Wooyoung was kissing… he was kissing Yeosang… right in front of me…!” The cat sniffled softly.

Hongjoong momentarily fell silent before one of his hands instinctively reached up, gently running through San’s hair. As he kept of softly playing with soft strands of it, as hurt as the cat looked, a small purr started coming out of him and he slowly seemed to calm down once again.

“You always used to do that… when I couldn’t fall asleep… Do you really… not remember…? It’s not fair… I brought you- the real you- this time… Why do you not remember…” San’s voice sounded barely above a whisper. As much as Hongjoong wanted to understand, he didn’t know what he meant. He felt such a deep connection with those people that he had never met in his life and yet when the cat said something like that, it was almost as if something clicked for just a second.

He saw himself at a much younger age, lying in bed. There seemed to be another child lying next to him, but he couldn’t make out their face no matter how hard he tried to focus on it to keep it from fading away, his fingers running through that child’s raven hair.

“I don’t know…” Hongjoong answered just as quietly. “There are a lot of confusing things I still don’t understand… maybe if you could help me…? Tell me what I’m supposed to remember?” However, before San could even begin to answer him, he heard Yunho’s quiet voice calling out to him. The master should be calling for him. “Will you be alright?”

San gently removed his head from Hongjoong’s shoulder and gave a light nod, a hand coming up to wipe the stray tears away from his cheeks.

“I’ll be alright. Thank you for listening. The master’s waiting… go on now, don’t be late.” The cat softly shooed him away, looking down at his feet right after. “I need some time by myself. Don’t worry, we know it’s really you… and the master will know too. I’m sorry that he doubts you now, it’s all my fault but… don’t worry, just make sure to drink it all.”

* * *

Make sure to drink it all? Hongjoong was brought back from his confusion when Yunho approached, a relieved smile on his lips when he saw him. The warmth of his smile never failed to make him a bit more at ease as well.

“Here you… are…! I looked for you… all over. Dinner will be… served shortly. This way… please.” The gravedigger smiled and Hongjoong trailed behind the tall man. He was expecting to be taken to dining room but instead he was taken to the bedroom where he had woken up earlier.

“Yunho? What are we doing here?” He questioned, frowning as Yunho opened the closet and seemed to look through it a bit. The clothes in it seemed to be as old as the ones all of them wore from what little he could see over the gravedigger’s shoulder.

“This little master… cannot possibly dine… in those clothes.” Yunho answered, picking out an outfit from the beautiful old closet and setting it on the bed.

Hongjoong’s heart nearly stopped.

That vest and coat… those were the clothes he saw himself wearing in the painting he had seen in the attic. As unlikely as other explanations could be, everything else that he saw could be explained by his exhaustion but that could not. Hongjoong had never seen those clothes before in his life, he was certain of it.

“Is… something the matter…?” Yunho asked, harshly bringing Hongjoong back to the present. He slowly shook his head and looked over the clothes one more time. They were well kept and clean, not covered in dust like every other piece of clothing in the closet was.

“Could you uh… could you please turn?” Hongjoong asked, Yunho looking a bit embarrassed at his mistake and nodding as he turned his back to him. Hongjoong looked at himself in the mirror once he had changed. The white vest and beige coat hugged his form perfectly. They were exactly his size. He almost felt his chest tighten in panic. Was what he saw really true?

The manor felt warmer as Yunho led him down the staircase towards the common room and then towards the tall double doors on the left that he had never noticed before that moment perhaps because of how covered in dust they were, almost disappearing into the wall. As the door’s opened, Hongjoong was met with a large dining room and a table large enough for a banquet to be held but there were only two plates on it. At the very head of the table sat Seonghwa, his gaze on him once again.

The man dressed in all black and yet his outfit was adorned with beautiful silks and lace. Hongjoong’s seat was on the opposite end of the table, the chandelier above them filled with burning candles lit up the room for them. Yunho bowed to them as Hongjoong took a seat and with that, he was gone. Yeosang was the one who served them in utter silence, pouring each other of them a glass of wine.

Once the painter was also dismissed, Hongjoong met the master’s eyes fearlessly for the second time that night.

“What exactly is the meaning of an invitation like this?” Hongjoong finally asked. Out of everything Seonghwa could have said, he had never been expecting the master to request he dined with him, especially since said master didn’t even seem to be willing to touch the silverware.

“Unlike us, you are still alive. It seems like you haven’t eaten in a while so you might collapse if you don’t soon. Please.” Seonghwa answered, motioning towards the man’s plate with his hand.

Hongjoong should be more careful. Should he really be eating what Seonghwa didn’t seem to be even touching? Still, his stomach protested loudly much to his embarrassment. He had been starving even when heading home earlier and the meat on his plate looked and smelled delicious. Giving in, he began eating.

There was nothing off with the flavor of it nor did anything happen as he ate, however Seonghwa seemed to limit himself to watching him eat still.

“About the questions I mentioned earlier-”

“You may ask them after you finish your wine.” While Seonghwa’s words from before held something close to some sort of buried warmth, he was once again strict and sharp when requesting such a thing of him. At that moment, San’s words from earlier came to Hongjoong’s mind.

_“Don’t worry, just make sure to drink it all.”_

He watched as Seonghwa himself took his cup into his hand and took a sip, looking at him almost expectantly. Doubting him or not, Hongjoong desperately needed answers to all his questions. Grabbing the cup, he brought the dark liquid up to his lips and instead of sipping it, he drank it all at once, frowning as he felt it a couple drops slip out of his lips and down his chin. Sure enough, it tasted like nothing but wine.

For the first time, Seonghwa’s eyes were completely unreadable if it weren’t for the way they now seemed to glisten a bit under the candlelight. The master stood and slowly made his way over to his end of the table, Hongjoong feeling his heart pounding in his chest with an inexplicable nervousness.

“It really is you…” Seonghwa spoke, his much softer than he had ever heard it before. Hongjoong’s eyes widened as the master knelt by his chair, one of his hands reaching up to rest of his cheek. Seonghwa’s hands were so cold but everything felt so incredibly hot when they touched, like his skin was going to catch on fire. The feeling was there and the next second it was gone.

“San can shapeshift others like he can shapeshift himself… He’s done it far too many times but… You would have revealed your true form after drinking it.” Seonghwa mumbled, Hongjoong lost in those dark eyes that now seemed to hold such a deep longing and fascination.

“What… What was it that I drank…?” Hongjoong now slowly asked, looking back at the now empty glass. As he looked back at Seonghwa, he saw something he had never thought he would see. Resting on his lips was a light but sad smile.

“Best not think of it now… Hongjoong. You were searching for someone who could give you answers in the attic, were you not? Come, then… if you say there is someone up there, then… it must be so.” It was oh so strange that Seonghwa would be the first to believe him when no one else did. Even stranger when he offered him his hand to help him up.

* * *

The master had gathered everyone at the top of the stairs leading to the attic. Unlike what he had seen earlier, there were no wood boards nailed to the door framed and instead the door itself was in place and locked. Yunho, Mingi, San, Yeosang and Hongjoong all looked equally nervous, only Seonghwa still looked as calm as ever and Wooyoung… he hadn’t showed up. Hongjoong hadn’t spotted the wolf at all since the incident with San.

Bringing a key out from his pocket, Hongjoong watched as Seonghwa inserted it into the keyhole and unlocked the old door with a heavy click. The attic was exactly as he remembered, a long narrow hallway leading down to the right with an awfully dark wallpaper.

As the six of them silently advanced down the hallway, Hongjoong caught Yeosang stopping momentarily before a closed door. The painter’s studio? Had that been the room from which Yeosang had fallen to his death? The painter kept up with them after a few moments nonetheless before the group came to a stop.

Instead of the door Hongjoong had found at the end of the hallway, there was simply a wall. He didn’t understand. Where a wall stood now was where the narrow path began, where the hallway was supposed to get tighter and tighter. It was gone.

“It was… here…” Hongjoong mumbled, dumbfounded. That could not be, everything else except for the door was exactly as he remembered. The outfit, Seonghwa’s words, the familiar hallway. There had to be something. The way the master had spoken to him before still wouldn’t leave his mind. He knew he had to be connected to that manor, to them. He had to be connected to them one way or another.

_“It really is you…”_

“There doesn’t seem to be a path ahead, dear. Perhaps you remembered incorrectly?” Yeosang’s voice broke through the silence. It was hard to swallow that after coming so far, he had been wrong. Just as he was about to turn back, Seonghwa stepped forward.

“No, Hongjoong said it was here.” His voice was calm and Hongjoong watched as he examined the wall, one hand reaching up to grab for a piece of the wallpaper that seemed to be falling off from the corner. Using that piece to pull at the paper, Seonghwa tore it off, stepping back to give the others a better view of what had left Hongjoong almost a bit frightened.

Under the wallpaper there was what looked like a rune drawn in fresh blood. Stepping forward once again, Seonghwa took out a handkerchief and smudged the lines of the rune beyond recognition.

Hongjoong was certain that now he had to be delusional. It had to be a dream.

He stood with wide eyes as the solid wall that once stood in front of them faded away, showing them a short hallway with a familiar door at the very end and before that door… an even more familiar spirit. Hongjoong heard San gasp loudly behind them as Jongho smiled in their direction.

“Master Seonghwa, Master Hongjoong, Yunho, San, Mingi, Yeosang… it’s been a long time… have you missed me?- Ah, you couldn’t possibly miss me. You forgot about me, didn’t you?” The spirit spoke coldly.

Hongjoong turned his head as San took a couple of weak steps forward.

“Choi… Jongho…?”


End file.
